For Every Time Heifer International Calls Me, I Will Take Oxen from an Impoverished Family

Not really. I don’t have the storage capacity.

This is a story of a persona vendetta. It’s also a story of marketing gone horribly wrong. But for those who don’t have the time to read an entire treatise on charitable giving, I’ll sum it up:

Don’t give to Heifer International unless you have a fetish for telemarketing, financial domination, or a combination thereof.

For Christmas, I Give You Bees

For a decade now, I’ve been using Heifer International to give gifts to people that I deem “ungiftable.” That’s not the indictment it seems: There’s simply a subset of my friends who already buy themselves everything they need. Some of them are minimalist and hate extra “things.” Others are hoarders and already have well above the responsible limits of stuff.

Heifer International has a simple mission: You can send farm animals to farmers who need them the most. You can gift a family with ducks, chickens, cows, goats — you get the picture. Since I have no particular way to verify the animals are treated humanely, I usually err on the side of bees. Bees are useful to farmers and the environment and it means I get to send people bees.

This process has worked fine for me over the past decade. But I never really considered the consequences, both on a broader spectrum, and an extraordinarily personal one.

Because a few years ago, the calls began.

We Have a Limited Time Offer, in the Sense That All Our Time On Earth is Limited, and Harken, Here Comes the Void

First, I noticed that every few months Heifer International would call me with the exact same spiel:

We’re thankful that you’ve helped us in the past. Now, we are excited to tell you about a limited time offer we have. A generous donor will double your contribution! How much can we expect from you?

The first problem was, of course, that I don’t arbitrarily send people bees. Heifer International had originally promoted itself as an alternative charitable gift-giving service, but at some point, it switched to a monthly loot box of farm animals — a recurring donation service. I already have recurring donations elsewhere, so this ran counter-intuitive to the way I used the service.

The second problem is that the calls were persistent. No matter how often I asked them to stop calling me, they continued. If anything, the calls started to increase in frequency. And always about this mysterious deal that was just about to expire.

I was polite.

But then, sometime around Christmas of 2018, I received not one, but six calls from Heifer International in a row. That wouldn’t have been a problem, or at least not an extraordinary problem, except:

• They called me at 10 at night.
• I missed the calls because I was otherwise occupied.
• They called from my area code.

The latter offense requires some explanation.

I have an 808 area code from Hawaii. I don’t live in Hawaii. No one calls me from an 808 area code except for family, and no one would call me from an unknown 808 area code unless it was an emergency. So, I immediately called back — only to get the same call from Heifer International. I politely explained to the woman that they needed to stop calling me.

She politely explained she had no actual relationship with Heifer International but was instead part of an outsourced, paid telemarketing company. (And, to her credit, I don’t think she intended to call me six times in a row. It seemed to be an issue with her auto-dialer.)

It was at this point that I had already resolved to never donate to them again. No one I know except for scam artists will call from your own area code. It’s an old telemarketing trick: They know that you’re more likely to answer.

But why would a reputable charity need to trick someone into answering their calls?

I’m Sorry, Our Relationship is Over, You Need to Respect That

Heifer International has continued calling me once a month for oh, the past year and a half. Occasionally, I accidentally answer. I ask them to stop calling. Most recently, I had the following conversation (and keep in mind, this is at the height of COVID, when many families don’t have spare money):

Me: I used to be really excited about Heifer International, but the constant calls, from my own area code, feel more like a scam than a charity, and I’m no longer interested in donating.

Heifer International: We call everyone like this, you aren’t special.

Me: Okay, but do you understand when you call people constantly, it makes them feel less apt to invest in your charity.

Heifer International: It’s my job to call you. I’m not a part of Heifer International, I’m a part of a different company, and I’m given a list of numbers. I have to call you.

Me: I understand that part, but Heifer International has to stop calling me.

Heifer International: I’m not the one calling you, Heifer International is, and I am contracted by Heifer International.

Me: Okay, I understand that, but I need all the people involved to stop calling me.

Heifer International: We’re calling you because you’re on our list and we call everyone on our list. You’re! Not! Special!

I just hung up, but my problems were now obvious: Since Heifer International outsources its telemarketing, the telemarketing companies are given a list from Heifer International. Thus, the telemarketing employees don’t have the real responsibility of removing you from the lists that they separately receive.

Regardless, I decided to do some digging.

3 out of 4 Stars on Charity Navigator

On Charity Navigator, Heifer International currently has 3 out of 4 stars. That’s decent. But it’s actually a little misleading. Look a little closer, and it has “4 out of 4” stars for accountability and transparency and “2 out of 4” stars for financial.

In other words, “We’re really bad with money, but we tell you about it.”

Founded in 1944, Heifer International brings in approximately $115 million a year. Of that $115 million, it spends $23 million in fundraising and $6 million in administration, leaving a paltry $96 million to go to charity. And consider the fact that this charity isn’t a direct donation: Instead, it has to go through the process of being converted into cattle.

Compared to similar organizations on Charity Navigator, it has one of the lowest percentages of funds actually going to the program, and one of the highest fundraising expenses by far. 75.6% of the dollars brought in by Heifer International go to the program itself, while a full 19.0% go toward aggressive fundraising. This compares to 3.8% to 7.5% in comparable charities.

Heifer International also has an extremely high CEO compensation: $443,745. Comparable charities with CEO compensation that high are making 3x or 6x as much money. (Don’t get thrown off by the CEO compensation being expressed as a percentage of expenses; Heifer International’s expenses are much higher because of the before mentioned telemarketing.)

And, I’m Not Alone

Someone, somewhere, has had a bad experience with even the best of companies. There’s someone probably leaving a bad review of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood right now.

But let’s take a look at some of the reviews that Heifer International has on GreatNonProfits.org, because they all tell a similar story:

“A couple of years ago, I donated to Heifer as a part of a donor matching program. Donate $10, it was matched.

The problem is, they have since spent every dime of the money I donated trying to solicit more.”

“I made a small donation to Heifer International last December, writing “one-time donation” on my check. Since then, I have been bombarded with phone calls and mail solicitations for more money.”

“I have donated to Heifer many times in the past.

This year they called & my husband made a pledge over the phone. When the invoice arrived, I paid it within the week. Not surprisingly my check to them cleared the bank within the next two weeks.

Since that time, I have received 3 more invoices reminding me of our pledge & asking me to send in the amount we pledged.”

“I have supported Heifer International for a number of years now, however I was somewhat disturbed and disappointed to get a call this past weekend from a paid solicitor trying to get me to make a donation. I don’t know the finanacial details, of course, but telephone solicitation is, I bleieve, an expensive way to get donations. I do hope that Heifer Int’l abandons telephone solicitations, as I won’t be giving any money that way.”

“Do not waste your money and your hope on this group. All you are doing is contributing to a group that sucks up money, sends animals into an unsustainable situation, and pays its CEO about twice as much (last report I saw was $258,000( than the average for nonprofit CEOs. Don’t be caught up in the pretty photos of animals that won’t survive and prosper inthe situations they are being sent into. What a crock.”

“I thought that I had found a good way to donate. so the first year a bought a goat. Since then I have been inundated with solicitations even though I already am a member. Apparently they have a high paid CEO who thinks this a good way to run this charity.”

Is It Even a Useful Charity?

Blogs such as GiveWell point out the obvious problem of something like Heifer International. While it feels good to “give the gifts of ducks,” it’s far better to simply give the equivalent of cash to these farmers. These farmers might not need ducks. They might need food for the ducks they already have. And even if they can’t feed those ducks, they might just accept them anyway. Because, well, free duck.

Those are small matters. The broader issue is with charities that take it upon themselves to decide what the recipient needs. In general, cash is almost always the best charitable gift, because it is power that the recipient can leverage in any way necessary. The people on the ground know best what they need.

“The charity set up an aquaculture project in subsidized housing in Chicago to enable poor kids to sell fish to restaurants for money. In 1999 all the fish froze to death when the heat and power was cut to the building, some say deliberately. Two year[s] later, all the fish died again — this time of heat when power went off during a storm.”

Heifer International does little to address the challenges that giving out livestock rather than cash really presents, simply pointing out that the recipients of these livestock gifts can purchase everything they need locally, thereby helping the local economy (at their own cost). In reality, it’s simply a pat way to send a charming gift and feel like you’ve done good.

Alternatives to Heifer International

For the most part, people can do more good through direct action in their communities — starting a community garden near you is more likely to help lift people out of poverty than sending a goat to a stranger 4,000 miles away.

But let’s be realistic: You can’t put that in an envelope.

The best charities are going to be the ones that have the lowest overhead: These are the ones putting the majority of your dollars to work, rather than using them to relentlessly solicit you. Consumer Reports has an extensive list separated by the charity’s primary mission. Whether you’re interested in donating towards animals, cancer research, or ending poverty, you can send a charitable donation to any of these organizations on behalf of someone else.

The bottom line: Heifer International is a cute way to donate while giving a gift, but that’s all it is. It spends an extraordinary amount of money towards its own fundraising — well above what’s average for its industry — and an exceptional amount of money goes to its highly paid CEO. I have little doubt that it has, at this stage, spent more money calling me than I ever spent on donations.

While it may have once been a reputable charity, it simply doesn’t seem necessary or viable in today’s world. There’s little benefit to giving someone a goat over the money for a goat, farmers can become trapped in a cycle of poverty trying to take care of the animals they receive, and the organization itself seems to create very little impact given how many decades it has been in action.